


Magnolia

by Chaos_Kisses



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Ramblings, flower symbolism, hinted romance - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 01:43:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20323030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaos_Kisses/pseuds/Chaos_Kisses
Summary: Each person Seungyoun met got to know one side of him immediately, but as they slowly opened up to him, he did the same. And as a result affection grew, like a plant seed receiving both light and water, sun and rain.His affection grew into a flower, a different flower for every person,  as different in its nature as the person was and there were never two of the same kind. Seungyoun had a long path behind him, had met many people, befriended a considerable number of them. But few had turned out to be a tree.





	Magnolia

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure how this came to pass, but I originally did not plan this story. Somehow I dove into flower and plant symbolism with only a very limited knowledge, so excuse mistakes I might have made. This is strange, but a symbolic representation I enjoyed writing.

This feeling was unfamiliar to Seungyoun. 

It felt like a fire igniting on him, a fire that almost seemed to drive him forward. It started in his chest and worked its way towards his stomach, his lower abdomen and down his legs whilst spreading over his arms and upwards to his shoulders. Flames licked up his neck and climbed up over the back of his neck to reach his head. Heat engulfed him and his cheeks felt like they were burning, his whole face seemed on fire. 

The fire engulfed him, ignited his insides and softly nipped at his heart. He felt no pain from it - quite the opposite. It was an almost unnerving joy, pleasure, excitement that stemmed from it. A feeling he had been completely unfamiliar with.

This was unlike Seungyoun. He was overall balanced in his nature. Known for his boisterous and amusing humor and character, his unrelenting passion and fire, his calmer side was almost like a revelation for most people. If anything, he had become a moral support, an emotional crutch for many, a secure hold and save haven. His balance stemmed from his experiences and understanding he thought he possessed about himself.

His two sides balanced each other out and in the centre, affection was created. Each person he met got to know one side of him immediately, but as they slowly opened up to him, he did the same. And as a result affection grew, like a plant seed receiving both light and water, sun and rain.

His affection grew into a flower, a different flower for every person, as different in its nature as the person was and there were never two of the same kind. Seungyoun had a long path behind him, had met many people, befriended a considerable number of them. But few had turned out to be a tree.

A tree of affection. A flower held beauty, held meaning and the promise for another season. But they withered, their beautiful flowers would start wilting and die. They might return, but only with grooming and care.

People differed like flowers did. They all needed some care. Some would spread like weeds - blooming and lively, almost no care necessary and they wouldn't leave. They would take root in Seungyoun's heart and stay.

Some would take careful grooming to bloom beautifully - but they would wither and die after their season ended, and nothing would bring them back. He valued them for their memories as much as he did the weeds. 

Weeds were beautiful too, just not always expected or originally wanted. But their persistence was admirable. Some might have thorns and hurt when he tried to grab them, but their blooms shone as brightly and proud as any other flower.He admired thistles: strong, enduring, victorious. Their blooms always caught his eye as some grew higher than himself. They possessed a strange beauty but kept everyone at a distance. But if you treaded carefully you would be able to come closer and see their raw beauty.

Some were easy to take care of and gave in return. Those flowers were planted in his heart and needed little attention too, but if he gave them more they would bloom in the most beautiful way. He treasured them as much as he did others.

And then there were some that grew beyond a flower. They grew into bushes, into shrubs, into hedges as they filled up the garden of his heart. Their growth was slow but consistent and once they had taken a hold, they would never let go again. Green surrounded him with them and a feeling of safety and home as he went through the paths they created. 

Some of them grew even more and became trees instead of bushes. They took a long time and were in danger of dying early on but with time their roots reached deeper than anyone else. If the garden of his heart was above his heart, these trees would surround it with their roots. They felt its beating, but never constrained it. They opened their branches above him and kept him save, dry from rain, away from the sun if it burned to bright, and a place to retreat to.

There were few trees in his heart. Some were strong, had been there from birth and had grown as he did, had suffered as he did. Their roots reached deep and their branches spread wide. Redwood and Cedar. They promised forever, promised strength and support.

Some had arrived later, but had grown almost as tall. Maple was among them, Elm trees and Oak. They balanced him, gave him power, courage and stability along with strength. He treasured them as much. Four were standing in his garden.

Nine Birch trees had joined them with the beginning of this new path he was walking on. They stood around the garden, scattered, but still close enough at any time. Their stems started strengthening already even though they had just started growing. Soon, they would reach out to each other, with branches thin enough to still let light shine in his flowers. 

Seungyoun loved how they had grown around him. More flowers had bloomed in the last months, some had already wilted, some had stayed. Only few would survive - he knew that much by know - but he kept their blossoms between the pages of a book of memories. When he opened it, all would return, all the emotions, the pain and the happiness. They were one of his treasures.

At the centre of his heart's garden was a small pond, a pool of water not more than 6 feet wide. No tree had ever held its branches over it, no flower ever bloomed at its shore. The surface of the unmoving water reflected the sky and the sun above it, and Seungyoun's face when he gazed into it. 

His reflection would speak of experiences, of memories, if good and bad things. And he would sit there, listen and think about the words in an attempt to figure out who he was. Who he wanted to be. And who he had been.

He had struggled for an answer, and no reply to his questions had come from his reflection. Only him, alone. Until one day, not too long ago, he had noticed a seedling sprouting. Boldly it had decided to take root away from the other flowers and trees and to grow near his pond instead. 

From the small green tip, leafs had started sprouting, large and bright green with an almost leathery and smooth texture. As all plants did in his garden it had grown quickly but instead of staying small the seedling decided it wanted to be bigger than a flower.

Instead it started growing into a tree. Not high up and wide, no. It stayed comparably small, with it's branche crooked and strangely shaped. They had almost curled, had bumps and curves were other trees had straight lines. The tree had grown higher, but never near the size of his oaks or maples. 

And as Seungyoun sat at the pond leaned against its trunk it started making blossoms. He had long been sure that this tree was a magnolia. His garden had gone through harsh circumstances but it had still grown, unperturbed and insistent, with admirable endurance. Magnolias were strong. They endured more than many.

The blossomless tree held a subtle beauty to it but Seungyoun could not help but anticipate it's bloom. Would it be pure and perfect white? Joyous and innocent pink? Healthy and lucky green? Or well-wishing purple? Would the colours blend into each other, white and pink creating a soft peach? Or would they bloom boldly and brightly?

As he waited under the tree his eyes wandered idly over the garden. Flowers were blooming and wilting through the weathers they had gone through. Storms had arrived over his garden, long rain and strong wind had attacked the soft petals and leafs over the past months. Back then the birches had only started growing, but the other trees had stood tall already. And as he had let his gaze wander, it had landed on the reflection on the water. 

Not his own reflection this time. Instead of his counterfeit he saw the Magnolia tree with its blossoms opened. Large and unapologetic they showed themselves, and instead of one colour only it carried them all. 

Seungyoun had felt almost jealous of the blossoms: to show themselves as they were, without hiding. To respect themselves and open up their full potential while the tree still supported his own, Seungyoun's, weight against its trunk. 

Seungyoun had sighed at the thought in defeat when a single pure white blossom had fallen from its branch and had landed on the water. He had gotten up and stepped to the pond, ready to pick it out of the water when he had noticed his reflection. 

He had been standing with the Magnolia behind him, but he had been standing on his own. If he wanted to he could have leaned back against the magnolia again, but it would neither pull him back nor force him to go. It had been his decision. 

And one thing had become perfectly clear: the magnolia was a part of his reflection. The single falling blossom, this one sign of fragility that had ignited his will to save it, had gotten him to his feet to see that they both stood together and on their own. 

And hence he had come to the conclusion that he loved the magnolia.

The magnolia that had ignited a fire in him that burned without pain, without destruction. The magnolia that with its silent support had given him strength he didn't know he had. The magnolia that seemed unaware of its beauty but unapologetic of its character. That was so humble and so expressive and boisterous at the same time.

A magnolia he called by the name of Lee Hangyul.

A name that had left his lips many times, laced with just about as many emotions. Their journey together had been arduous and hard in an environment promising either success or annihilation out of their own control.

They had endured it, suffered through it, cried through it. But their own flower path had opened up now. Seungyoun could still hardly believe it. The birches stood tall as he prepared for this new start, 9 of them in a circle around him as he stood by the pond.

Their leaves rustled playfully, like laughter and joy echoing from them, along with sniffs and sobs. If it would be joyful or tearful he could not say yet. Their journey was still ahead. 

But the magnolia stood tall behind him, closer than the birches with its branches stretched out and reflected in the clear water. Its blossoms showed no sign of wilting. And with a hand on the bark he prepared himself for this new journey.


End file.
